Sometimes the road to hell is not in fact paved with good intentions
Or rather, good intentions for everyone
Love can bring a soul closer to heaven
Unless it is love for one's own ego
An angel fell from heaven because of that
How much better would man fare for the same crime?
Delta Sierra stared in horror at what he had stumbled upon. He was acutely aware of the cold sweat that was starting to roll down his forehead but that was only a side note. The true reality was that he was struggling to process of the sight before him.
The lab that he was currently in wasn't that much different from the one above. It shared a similar layout and design and it too had the translucent pods. However, where the floor above only had a few pods, this one was absolutely crowded with them. Those pods had been empty. These were not. And that was what made this such a horrifying sight. It was plain for Delta Sierra to see that something was growing inside them.
Super mutants.
They were in various degrees of development. Some were simply large blobs of cells. They already resembled an ominously large organism. The other pods showed just how those blobs continued to mature. Some appeared to be nearly complete in their development, showing nearly mature mutants.
The one pod he was watching contained a mostly developed mutant. The abomination's eyes were closed and its body was slightly curled so that it would adequately fit within the pod. Still, Delta Sierra could see that its muscles were fully developed. He wondered in morbid curiosity just how much more it needed to grow before it was complete.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the pod left its place on the floor and was lifted to the floor above by a long mechanical piston.
Delta Sierra decided he should hurry off to the next lab.
Life among the Treeminders, as Isaac learned they called themselves and as Nicole explained, was not so bad. The Spike Dogs had managed to find ways to assimilate themselves into the culture, even though they were only there about a week.
David was showing the people how jerry rig various things together when they could not be easily repaired. Despite his limited medical knowledge, Isaac was able to help with a few things he had learned from his dad back in New York. Suda begrudgingly accepted the situation, but she did help out the other women for lack of anything better to do. Joseph meanwhile was teaching the Treeminders on how to construct bows and use a sling. Most of them found the sling a bit complicated so he was now in the process of helping them produce their first batch of bows and arrows. They were hoping that with enough training and familiarity, they would be able to switch over from firearms to archery.
Even the children had come to love Furious despite everyone knowing that he was generally bad mannered and really only wanted snacks.
Still, Suda was the most vocal on their predicament.
"I don't care if they're being nice to us. A soft, fluffy cage is still a cage. We're still prisoners." Suda grumbled when the group was sitting together.
"Bide our time, escape at first possible opportunity." David agreed, sitting back as his folded his arms in front of his chest.
"I know that, but the question is how we're going to get this done. Some of them are still armed and I wouldn't doubt their marksmanship." Isaac whispered.
Furious shuffled by, grunting as he did.
Joseph, having been listening in on their conversation, walked by with an armful of the still incomplete bows.
"Why do you think I'm teaching them a very long and complicated bow making process?" Joseph asked quietly.
Isaac, David and Suda looked at him with inquisitive glances.
"Are you driving at something?" Suda demanded with a raised brow.
"Making a bow is simple. One can readily be made by taking a particular wood strip and boiling it." Joseph shrugged.
"…So why are you having them collect bones and material to laminate them to the bow?" Isaac inquired.
"A much more complicated process. When the time is right and the bone has not yet set to the wood, we'll have to make sure that we steal their ammo clips. That's when we'll make our escape. Their ammo will be missing and the bows will simply fall apart in their hands." Joseph smiled mischievously.
"They've been awfully nice to us, though. Sure hate to pull the carpet from under them like that." Isaac muttered, a hint of regret on his voice.
"I kind of understand you, but dude, we need to get home." David replied, thinking of his wife and daughter.
"Amen." Isaac replied.
Julia constantly carried the weight of worry and dread with her. It was bad enough that Albany needed her supervision, and the Liberator's return to their town duties just barely dulled that burden. Still, the weight paled in comparison to the fear she felt for Evelyn. Her only daughter was missing and she had no idea as to what her fate was. The only hope she had were the words of Evelyn's captors and that was barely any comfort. Both she and James did their best to keep that hope alive but as the days dragged on worry started to give way to despair.
And then, one crimson morning, Otto who had been watching the northern approach to the city rapped heavily on their door. The two found him panting breathlessly, having run the distance between his post and their house. Between fighting to get air, Otto coughed out one word.
"Refugees."
James, Julia, Sarah and Sven quickly hurried over to where the former vault security men had set up a road stop. The freshly trained vault security officers now wore green Regulator dusters over their blue jumpsuits and security armor. Furthermore, they all carried energy weapons as, for some reason, all of them showed an affinity for them. It wasn't easy but all of them had been determined to be properly equipped.
The energy weapons were probably the only thing keeping the large crowd of wastelanders back.
"Thank God you've arrived, Mr. Vanderbraun. We might have a riot on our hands if we don't give a good explanation to these refugees." One of the vaulties breathed nervously.
"When did these people get here?" James asked, looking the large crowd over. From his guess, there was about fifty of them. Off in the distance, his sharp eyes could pick out small groups of people still coming their way.
"Got here just recently, shortly before you did." The vaultie replied.
Julia cast a quick glance on all of them. They were all covered in dust. That, combined with the fact that some of them had cuts on their feet, she decided that most of them had walked quite some distance. Of course, another possibility was that they had moved quickly, like they had tried to escape something. Regardless, all of them looked tired, breathless and the air around them reeked of desperation.
"Where are you all from?" James called, trying to get information.
"From up north, just below the Adirondacks!" someone from the group shouted.
"And why are you all coming here?" James called back, standing on the tip of his toes.
"The war up there got worse and the plague is spreading." A different person replied.
"Plague" sent chills rocketing down James, Sven and especially Julia's spines.
"Red plague?" James asked for clarification, his voice now starting to fail him.
"Yeah? What other plague could there possibly be?" an older man demanded grumpily.
"So can we now pass into the city?" a woman holding an infant asked worriedly.
James let out a tormented sigh while Sven tapped his foot in anxious contemplation. Meanwhile, the vault security men and Sarah looked at them in expectant curiosity.
"Your orders, sir?" a security member asked.
James ignored him and called back to the crowd.
"I'm sorry, but all of you will have to camp outside the town for at least a week before we let you in." James replied.
He was met with an upset rumble from the crowd.
"Quarantine. We need to make sure you all are not infected before we can bring you into the safety of the town." James replied back.
"What about the people behind us?" someone called.
"You will all separate into the groups you came in. Try to maintain minimal contact. I know this is all very ridiculous but we need to do this so that we don't get the disease ourselves. We can't have an outbreak here." James explained.
"But we came here to escape it! We can't have it!" someone shouted angrily.
"This town is our responsibility. We cannot take any chances." James snapped, brows dipping below his glasses in frustration.
"And who made you the expert on this?" someone else growled.
James glanced over at Julia. He had half a mind to call her over. One had to look very closely, it wasn't obvious, but Julia still had small pockmarks on her skin and face. They were subtle but powerful reminders of her close brush with death when she had a bought of the Red Plague.
She was also very self conscious about them.
Thinking better of it, James instead pointed to the L stitched on the sleeve of his duster.
"This. I've seen this plague before and my friend here and I have disposed of the bodies of those infected." James explained, motioning to Sven.
Sven simply nodded, his blast helmet and breathing mask bobbing with his head.
"I don't want to clean yours." James said darkly.
People became very cooperative after that.
Julia meanwhile had told Sarah to run off and get some supplies for her. In the meantime, she had to hold an emergency meeting with the rest of the vault security members. In some ways, they had started to take over most of the security within the town. Now, it was the most logical choice that they would have to be responsible for helping them get over this new crisis that was building up.
"I hate to spring this on you guys but we're going to have to break you up into shifts." Julia started apologetically.
"But we're already on daytime and nighttime shifts." A guard said, supposedly trying to be helpful.
"I know, but we're going to have to break you down further. The problem is that these people may have the plague. It's transmitted through direct contact with bodily fluids but that means they can cough and if you breath saliva in or if it gets in your mouth or eyes, you will get it. It doesn't take a lot, the saliva can be microscopic but that's all it needs. Trust me." Julia explained, trying to hide a shudder as she tried to suppress the memories.
"So we're getting protective equipment?" someone else asked.
"Yes. You should still keep your distance but you will have to direct the groups of refugees coming. Keep each group separated so that way there is no cross transmission. This is going to be a very hectic time but if we do this right, we can do this so that no one dies…and if on the off chance someone does have the disease…casualties will be minimal." Julia explained.
"So the new shifts mean…?" another guard asked.
"You men will also have to follow your own quarantine. We'll have to keep you men out here and away from the rest of the town while you're still working with the refugees. We'll arrange for a way for your families to visit you safely, but we have to do this for everyone's safety." Julia apologized.
The vault men certainly weren't happy with the news but Julia could tell that they were already trying to be good sports about it.
"Yay…vacation…" one guy jibbed tongue in cheek.
"Yes, yes. Now, let me tell you what symptoms to look for." Julia started just as Sarah came over and dumped the supplies on a nearby table that they set up.
It had taken a couple days of planning and plenty of nerve wracking encounters but his plan had finally been set up. Anthony realized that although he had accomplished the mission Adam had given him, finding evidence for the Hierarchy's wrongdoing, he was still far from finished. He was still stuck behind Hierarchy lines and under the guise of a Hierarchy soldier. He could not simply leave otherwise they would peg him for desertion.
Anthony then considered donning his duster and trying to slip out disguised as a visiting Regulator. However he knew he couldn't just take on the duster. The others here would instantly recognize him. After that it wouldn't be long for them to realize he had been spying on them the whole time. That would undoubtedly lead to a summary execution. Not that any of this mattered anyhow considered that Anthony had left his duster in Albany.
So, Anthony decided to leave with a bang.
All the while, as he snuck past the guards, broke into the armory and made off with the stolen goods, he could hear James Vanderbrauns' words. They had been warnings back in training that they should always seek to minimize casualties, even among the enemies.
But Anthony's rage boiled. The Hierarchy had broken all the rules and then hit them where it really hurt. Another problem was although he was certain they had taken someone he cared about, he had no clue which person they abducted, much less knew where they might be.
Screw the fact that his "unit" had little to do with it. Anthony was going to give the Hierarchy a taste of their own medicine. Sven style.
Anthony waited till around midnight. Around him he could hear the other Hierarchy soldiers snoring. For weeks, all of them had trained in sabotage and other clandestine skills. The irony was not lost on Anthony. They had essentially taught him how to pull this off.
Latched under each bed was a block of remotely detonated high explosives. Anthony had deduced that they were pre-war equipment. He was very happy to find those in the armory. He was also more than happy to swipe them.
Dressed in the Hierarchy fatigues, he gathered his satchel. He had to keep it light so that if anyone spotted him they would not be too suspicious. Still, he had to make sure he had the bare minimal equipment.
His heart starting to race, he looked into the bag to make sure he had everything. There were spare caps, a few cans of Cram, enough, he hoped to get him to the next neutral river port. He had a few daggers, a vial of the radscorpion venom he had grown dependant on for the darts for his simple blow gun and a 10mm pistol. He also carried a spare change of clothes so he could ditch the military fatigues and simply become another wastelander.
He could only hope it would be enough.
Quietly slipping off his bed, he made his way to the door.
"Hey, Anthony, where are you headed off to?" a voice whispered.
Anthony looked over at to see that one of the fellow trainees had spotted him.
"Just taking a walk, man. I can't sleep. Maybe a walk will clear me up." Anthony lied.
"…Alright, suit yourself." The soldier shrugged before rolling over to go back to sleep.
Anthony took a deep breath and slipped outside. Letting his heart calm he stepped off to the side, into the shadows beside the barracks. Once he was certain he was alone and no one had seen him, he pulled up the sleeve on his wrist to reveal a stealth boy.
A small click was heard and he effectively vanished into thin air.
Now a vapor, Anthony quickly changed out of the fatigues and into the wasteland clothes. The discarded garments now visible on the ground, but still effectively shrouded by darkness, Anthony knew that he now had to take off. Running as fast as his legs could silently take him, he knew he had to put as much distance between himself and the perimeter while he was still a ghost. He had only one more stealth boy on his person and that was to be used for emergency purposes.
He knew this stealth boy would only last so long.
Winding through the ruins and decrepit foundations of houses that once stood, Anthony knew he had to keep going south west. Still, he needed to put more distance between himself and the main city of Haven.
His stealth boy suddenly dissipated.
It was time.
Crouching behind the crumbling walls of a house, Anthony reached into his satchel. Glancing over, he saw a pool of festering water that had gathered in what had once been the building's cross base. Perfect. Quickly running through his list of things he had to keep in mind, he knew that from here on in, unless he felt he was getting cornered, he would not be allowed to use that last stealth boy. Now he had to depend on silence and the cover of darkness to shelter him until the dawning of the sun. When he saw sunrise he hoped to be far away from the Hierarchy.
Now to make sure they would be busy.
Anthony removed the remote detonator from the satchel. He glanced at the weapon and for a moment he started to think of Lieutenant Macintyre and the other men he had trained with. Again he could hear James Vanderbraun lecturing them to keep casualties to a minimum.
A snarl formed on his lips.
"See you in hell." Anthony hissed.
Off in the distance, a fireball rose to the sky signaling that at least one section of the Hierarch's barracks just winked out of existence in a violent explosion. Far from the actual destruction, Anthony was sprinting back to the Regulator cities. He hoped people would just accept that his body had been vaporized in the blast.
As Delta Sierra stepped forward to allow the heavy door to close behind him, he searched furiously for another computer terminal or some other source of information. The sight of a facility dedicated to producing super mutants was alarming enough. However, Delta Sierra was more worried that this was only the second floor. He had to know what was going on down on the last two floors and he did not care to find more super mutants down there, whether they were still being developed or not.
Still, something was bothering him. The way the facility on the second floor was laid out, it looked like it could produce a whole army on its own. If such was the case then what were those last three floors for? He certainly did not want to find out with his own eyes.
Not spotting any sources of information, Delta Sierra took a deep breath to calm himself and steady his nerves. Fighting dread that threatened to topple him, he spitefully accepted the fact that he would have to do this the old fashioned way.
Once again flattening himself against the wall and crouching down to make sure that he would be out of sight, he inched his way down the stairs. Right now, the only noise he could hear was the machinery from deep within the vault echoing and humming as it continued its labor of producing super mutants. At the moment, possibly because of the nervousness chewing at him, it seemed to be the only sound he could hear. Finally making his way safely to the door, he activated the proper console and watched as the giant barrier slid up.
Nothing in his previous twenty years of wasteland espionage experience could have prepared him for what he saw next.
A tense atmosphere settled on the northern outskirts of Albany. For now the vault security Regulators were able to keep order but it seemed that everyone's blood pressure was several units higher than normal. Sarah, still out from her laboratory, kept a constant vigil over the scene and tried to help out where she could. She had grown up with a lot of the men who were currently on the security team. Also being friends with Julia helped her keep painfully aware of just how difficult the situation had become.
It had also become nightmarish scene of paranoia and ragged emotions.
Green coated Regulators equipped with full breathing masks that covered their eyes with cold glass goggles formed a perimeter along the main entrance to Albany, making sure no one tried to breech the quarantine. By now, additional Regulators had been called up to help the vault security team. The veteran Regulators loathed the role. They were wandering vigilantes, not riot squad occupiers.
On the other side, it was becoming clear that the refugees were resenting the idea of being stuck on the outskirts of the town. To them, they were clearly uninfected. It also did not help that there were no standing shelters to accommodate them and protect them from the elements. Assurances that the Regulators and town volunteers were doing everything they could were not appreciated. But James had been insistent and the people that were old enough in Albany to remember the last plague certainly did not want to run the risk. In the mean time, tents from Brahmin hide were hastily being erected outside the Albany limits. Julia and Sarah also hurried to form an emergency area just within the ruins that was more sheltered where more vulnerable refugees would be admitted should the situation become desperate.
Along the perimeter, a woman, clearly frightened, ran up to one of the goggled vault security Regulators wheezing into his breathing mask. The vaultie held up a palm to signal to the woman to approach no further. Panting heavily, the woman caught her breath before coughing out her words.
"Supermutants…to the north…they're coming…" the woman panted, eyes flashing with panic.
The vaultie just looked at her, his expression inscrutable from the breathing mask.
"Okay. Just stay calm. They are nowhere near here." The Regulator said through the muffling of the mask, hands still keeping a relaxed grip on his plasma rifle.
"But…they're coming closer! They'll get to us!" the woman cried, breathing still ragged.
Those nearby that heard her also became alarmed. Now most of them were looking expectantly at the Regulators with their weapons and breathings masks. Why weren't they rushing forward to shoot down the mutants?
"Just wait, okay? It will be all right." The vault security man assured.
The refugees were not very convinced. Only to further heighten their fears, it appeared that the mutants had spotted them. Their distant figures were starting to grow, signaling that they were nearing the area.
"You can't just stand there! You can't just let us die!" the woman cried.
"Lady, look." The security Regulator retorted in exasperation, pointing in the distance back at the mutants.
Turning around, the refugees spotted that somehow the mutants were now lying very motionlessly on the ground.
"The doc or some other sniper holes up in the ruins watching the outskirts. They make sure to deliver high speed head trauma to anything that gets too close." The Regulator explained.
Lowell had taken to moping. He could not train like he did back at the Brotherhood base. There was no one to spar with and he decided that with the growing tension out there with the refugees, target practice would not be a good idea. Gun or energy fire might accidentally spook them. He felt bad for his parents. He was on edge enough but they had to deal with their missing daughter and the refugee problem on top of that.
Perhaps they simply busied themselves with it to help with the waiting. At least, they all silently but furiously prayed that they would be waiting. With each passing out despair's dark cloud seemed to encroach ever further around them. They wanted Evelyn to still be alive, they needed a chance to bring her back safe.
Standing by the docks, Lowell watched the ships float eerily in the water. The whole thing would have probably been peaceful if it were not for the knowledge that it seemed like everything was being set against them. Still, that was not foremost in Lowell's mind. The Brotherhood Paladin only felt rage that his sister was out there and there was not a single bloody thing he could do about it. He had easily killed super mutants with his bare hands and knew how to drop most enemies with any gun known to man. Still, all of that meant nothing now.
Frustrated, Lowell's armored fist slammed down on one of the wooden beams anchoring the dock into the riverbed. It left an indent on the flat of the wood.
The sound of ships starting to power up caught his attention. From the northern part of the river Lowell could see a flotilla of ships starting to close in on Albany. They appeared to be of all different makes and sizes.
Many of them also appeared to be loaded with passengers.
He saw Carl leave his ship and immediately started rushing off towards the direction he assumed Julia would be. Meanwhile, his ship, the Hammer made an approach to the visiting flotilla. Poseidon's voice could be heard over a megaphone.
"Albany has currently set up a quarantine. If you are fleeing from the north you have several options. You may remained quarantine aboard your ships for the duration of a week, or you may beach ashore towards the northern section of the city where you will abide by the rules of quarantine and specialists will tend to your needs. If you do not like either of these options, you must either pass on through or turn around. You may not immediately enter Albany."
Carl had rushed off to warn them that their migration problem had jus increased exponentially.
Delta Sierra could see nothing but red and pink shades reflecting off his visor. He was glad that his sense of survival was strong enough to keep him absolutely silent and composed because he was certain he just got a little sick in his mouth. He had seen blood. He had seen terrible injuries and bodies horribly split open or destroyed in ways that they should never be. Heck, he had been the one to cause such atrocities half the time.
But for all those years of being yet one of the more dangerous hunters of the wastes, this sight far exceeded them all.
It was as if the floor was a giant cauldron of body tissues, blood, exposed organs, shredded flesh and exoskeletons. Glass walls showed and endless flow of the gore cascading from the upper levels to collect in a pool below the metal of the floor. A heavy, translucent pane in the center of the floor showed all of the waste tissue collecting into the center where it apparently disappeared into a lower level. He could even hear the sickening thud and splash of the gore slamming against the pane.
Watching one of the waterfalls of blood, he noticed the body of one of the centaurs starting to descend lower into the hell. He immediately recognized it. It was the one whose neck he had broken. The body continued to slide and tumble until it too washed into the lower pane and then disappeared into the open maw that swallowed all the gore.
Stepping around the clear glass, as if afraid the pane would fall through and he would be drowned in a tide of red, he quickly dashed off to the door to descend deeper into the vault. Anything to get him as far away from this sight.
Where in hell was he going?
A darkness was now hanging over Albany. The tense masses of refugees had settled for their cobbled together habitations while they waited for their quarantine periods to pass. On the Hudson River, the Regulator boats, with the Hammer as their flagship, enforced an impromptu embargo. Not that it really mattered Trade ships had altogether ceased passing through for months ago anyway.
In the center of the Hudson, Carl's Hammer sat anchored. He had ordered Poseidon to make sure that the guns were not manned, they were already in the negatives as far as public relations went and keeping someone posted at the weapons wouldn't help. Instead, he kept a regular patrol of men at the bow. The guns were indeed loaded but he figured a constant watch was less threatening.
Besides, he really did not want to blow a boat full of desperate refugees out of the water.
He looked over to the starboard where the Half Moon was also in anchor. Alexandra had made sure the 40mm cannon was in clear view but that too was otherwise unmanned. No one in Albany liked the situation. Carl was certain everyone in the city felt for the refugees. However, they also knew that should the plague break out within the town everyone would lose.
"I really don't like this, boss." Poseidon grumbled.
"Keeping people out instead of letting them in?" Carl asked, leaning on the consoles while staring out from the bridge windows.
"Something like that." Poseidon nodded.
"I don't like it either, buddy." Carl muttered almost apologetically.
"Hospitality is one of the many things I miss from the old world. Trust me, I still remember it despite my faulty memory. I figured this was the stuff the bad guys did. Never thought I'd find myself doing it." Poseidon sighed.
"Me either, Poseidon. I just wanted to be a fisherman. I only became a Regulator because…I had to leave home and as much as I like peace, I realized there would be none if no one cleared out the bad guys. Back then it was easy as knock off a few raiders…now…keeping desperate and scared people out of town? It's not simple anymore." Carl muttered, eyes downcast.
"Well…you became one of the Liberators. That must count for something." Poseidon offered.
"…I don't know anymore, buddy. When I was younger it didn't seem like a big deal. Twenty years later…look, I've carried a lot of heavy things in my life. But that thing just seems to get heavier with each passing year." Carl admitted.
One of the vault Regulators, still huffing into his gas mask, noticed a single lone figure coming up the road. That single new comer was making his way through the refugees. It was not a hard task since the exiles tended to keep to themselves to avoid any possible transmission. The Regulator watched this man intently through the glass of his mask. There was something about him that the Regulator did not like.
The man wore the Brahmin leather of a wasteland traveler. However, around his shoulders he wore a long brown coat. The Regulator was certain that under that coat was at least one weapon if not more.
"Stay back." The Regulator warned when the man got too close.
"I have a message for the Vanderbrauns. It concerns their daughter." The messenger said quietly.
He was immediately surrounded by three vault Regulators, their plasma and laser weapons pointed at him as he was roughly escorted into Albany. At a double pace, they marched him right up to Julia, James and Lowell. The traveler's message was rather short. He spoke as he handed James a sheet of paper.
"That is the location of your daughter. She is safe. For now. Meet there in two days so that you may negotiate for your daughter's return. You bring how many men you want but only you may speak with my leader. Furthermore, I would not suggest holding me captive. If I do not return to my leader with the word of your compliance, your daughter will die. Understand?"
